


I can't make you love me if you don't

by skyekingsleigh



Series: i would never leave without you [stalia] [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 09:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11377032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyekingsleigh/pseuds/skyekingsleigh
Summary: The two days leading up to Stiles’ and Malia’s break up





	I can't make you love me if you don't

**Author's Note:**

> This is canon-divergent. Enjoy some heartbreaking stuff guys :(

_**two days before** _

It was past midnight when Malia woke up to the sound of shuffling above her. The pack had went to the McCall residence to finish reading the book, ‘Dread Doctors’ and everyone ended up spending the night. Remembering their positions in the living room earlier, she realized that it was, in fact, Stiles who’s awake and wandering. 

She focused her senses, hearing him open the fridge. Unconsciously she let out a relieved sigh, knowing that her boyfriend (if she could still call him that) hadn’t upped and left. Recently he’d been acting suspicious, avoiding eye contact with her and even with Scott. She didn’t want to pry and intrude his private space so she kept her distance as well. Stiles didn’t force her when she had those nightmares about the accident and would often wake him up in the middle of an ungodly hour. She was simply returning the favor. 

Returning the favor seemed to be a difficult challenge, though, she figured out. Stiles had always been the one anchoring her to humanity, and she didn’t know what to do when he was the one who needed saving and not physically but mentally and emotionally. She was still adjusting to being a normal teenager and with the eight years she was missing catching up to her and adding her mother, the desert wolf, to the equation, she didn’t really have time to study adolescent psychology. 

Hesitating for a second, Malia breathed out through her nose deeply before following after him. 

The scene she walked into wasn’t really surprising. Stiles was a growing teenage boy, he liked to eat (sometimes the things he ate were more pleasant for Malia but that subject was for another conversation). There, sitting in a barstool in Scott’s kitchen counter was her boyfriend grumpily eating some cereal. His eyebrows were furrowed and a deep frown was etched on his face, but despite the pessimistic appearance he looked handsome. She might be slightly biased since Stiles was always attractive to her, but she genuinely means it. 

“Can’t sleep?” she decided to ask, announcing her presence. He looked up, not even surprised to see her there. 

“Something like that.” He answered shortly, playing around with his food. Malia didn’t remember when the shift of comfort between them happened. They went from sleepless nights spent talking nonsense to each other to one, two, three-worded answers that only left their mouths if necessary. 

“You okay?” her question reminded her of that time when Melissa McCall locked them up in a room in Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital. They had their first serious fight and they made up because of Stiles’ way with words. Even now whenever she recalls that moment, she feels a heavy weight in her chest that brings her happiness and anguish and all these mixed up emotions that leave her confused. She didn’t mind being confused, though, if it meant being with him. 

“I’m fine, Malia,” Stiles muttered sharply. His tone had shocked her, but she refrained her facial expressions from showing. This was a whole new side to him that she wasn’t used to. He was cold and rude and everything _her Stiles_ wasn’t. She didn’t know what to say so she stayed silent and instead approached him. “Just go back to sleep.”

“I can’t,” she shrugged. “You know I can only sleep well with you beside me.” It’s the pathetic truth. Somehow within the months they’ve spent together, Malia could only manage to sleep a nightmare-less sleep with Stiles beside her, holding her or even just close to her. Otherwise she’d just wake up screaming. Why else would she sneak inside his room past midnight just to cuddle with him? She had plenty of time to get used to the weather but she still used it as an excuse. Deep inside though, she knew Stiles felt the same. She wasn’t the only one with a haunted past. And Stiles’ happened barely a year ago. The first few nights they spent together, they didn’t sleep. Whether it because of their overdriven hormones or fear of what’s waiting for them the moment they close their eyes, they would spend the night until the early hours of the morning awake. 

When they truly became comfortable with each other, they acted like a married couple that would wake up together, shower together and bug the hell out of Sheriff Stilinski every morning. Secretly Stiles and Malia both knew that his dad enjoyed the early banters over pancake toppings and coffee, though. In their own, messed up way, they had become a family. 

“Just leave me alone, alright?” he shook her off when she tried to sit beside him. He wasn’t looking at her still, so he didn’t see the glare she casted upon him nor the tears that were starting to brim her eyes. “I just need to be alone right now.”

Silently she lets a tear fall, before shaking her head to herself and exiting the room. Each heavy step away from him tugs at her heart, each inch making her want to cry. She wasn’t smart but she also wasn’t dumb, she knew their relationship’s barely holding on to threads. It seemed inevitable now that she thought about it. What they had–still have– was wonderful, unique, and mind-blowing and heart fluttering. But sooner or later (perhaps sooner) they would have to face reality and it’s not exactly always rainbows and unicorns. Yes their relationship was mind-blowing but they couldn’t be mind blown forever. 

 

_**one day before** _

The following morning when most of the pack were up, Malia was already gone. If she had learned anything when she was a coyote, it’s being sneaky and unnoticed when she wants to. It wasn’t really that difficult since Stiles never left the kitchen and Scott was asleep with Kira upstairs. It was like the universe wanted her to leave. So leave she did. 

Scott and Stiles were voted to make breakfast, and the true alpha took notice of the were-coyote’s absence and asked him. “Where’s Malia?” he furrowed his eyebrows and looked around the room but no one answered. Almost instantly his eyes averted to Stiles who was noiselessly stirring the pancake mix. “Stiles?”

He hummed before looking up, setting the whisk down on the sink. “What?” Kira and Scott were looking at him expectantly while Lydia was rolling her eyes. “Why are you guys looking at me like that?”

“Malia? Where did she go?” Kira had been the one to ask next, frowning at him. 

_‘Why the fuck should I know?’_ were the first words that came to his mind. But then he immediately felt guilty, remembering her retreating form earlier when he practically pushed her away. And then that’s when he started to feel worried. 

Malia could be very impulsive at times, very much like him. What if she decided to leave? What if she found the desert wolf? What if the desert wolf found her? Tons of worst-case scenarios ran through his mind and the more he worry about her, the guiltier he felt. What if last night was the last time he’d ever see her? His last words to her would basically be ‘fuck off’. _Shit._

“Maybe she left a note? Or a text?” he stumbled over his words, reaching for his phone. Then he realized something. Theo was gone, too. His nose flared. What a coincidence, huh?

“Malia’s fine,” Lydia suddenly said, looking down at her phone. Silence met her words, making her look up only to see the pack looking at her questioningly. “What? I texted her, she replied. It’s really not that hard.”

Stiles knew he shouldn’t think there’s more to it. He trusted Malia, despite where their relationship stood right now. But he can’t help but think of Theo’s not so friendly looks that he always shoots towards her and Malia’s vivid description of his physical attractiveness. He tried to control his breathing, but knowing he failed when Scott raised his brow at him. He needs to get himself together, like, right now.

Last night he had been rude, selfish, and not himself. He missed the times when just looking at Malia made him feel safe and calm. He didn’t have any worries around her, partly because when they’re together she took up all the space in his mind and the only thing he could think of was: _malia, malia, malia._

But what he did– to himself and to Donovan–, it took away a part of him. It was like something evil, hidden well beneath the depths of his inner being, wants to crawl outside his skin. His warmth had been replaced with a coldness he couldn’t shake. And he was afraid. He was very afraid. 

He will lose Scott, his best friend, his brother. He’d never look at him the same, knowing he had blood spilled on his hands. He’d lose his dad. What would he say? The sheriff’s son: responsible for another person’s death. He might as well lock himself up now. And lastly, he’d lose her. He’d lose Malia. But lately it feels like it’s leading up to that way anyway. 

-

Stiles didn’t know how to react. Here he was, worrying his ass off, only to find out that his girlfriend knew about his problem all along. And–

“It didn’t matter to me,” was her explanation. It didn’t matter? It didn’t matter? Well _congratu-fucking-lations_ , Malia, it didn’t matter to you! 

Deep down he knew she didn’t mean it to sound that way. It meant that she’s not one to judge, that she promised not to judge, and despite knowing he had killed somebody, it didn’t matter to her because she still loved him. But Stiles was blinded with rage and shock and even a little bit of embarrassment, and the only thing he could muster up was “well it did to me,”

And that was it. That was their break up. There were tears they both fought so hard not to fall; there was that faraway look of betrayal and abandonment in her stare. And there was the pain he tried to mask as nonchalance as he slammed the door to her car shut. 

He walked away without as much as a second glance. He didn’t dare to look back knowing that if he saw her crying, there’s no way he could’ve continued without apologizing his ass off and wiping away her tears. So he buried his feeling where his innocence was once were, and he burst inside the sheriff’s station wearing a poker face. 

“What happened?” were his father’s words the minute he saw him sitting in his office. He was in a meeting when Stiles arrived so he was forced to sit down and wait for him. Stiles shrugged off his question and changed the subject to whether he wants him to do the groceries this afternoon, but sheriff was persistent and instead leaned against his desk and gave him a knowing look. 

And that’s when he broke. “I lost her,” he managed to sputter out, nodding to himself; finally letting the emotions and the tears he hid so well out. “I _lost_ her, dad.” 

“Come here,” Sheriff Stilinski grunted, pulling his son into his arms to comfort him, but it only reminded Stiles of their little family hug with Malia a couple of months ago that happened in the exact same spot he’s standing on and he cried just a little bit harder. 

Already he misses her scent, the smell of lavender and flowers on her hair and the look she gets in her eyes when she couldn’t find the appropriate words to say to him. His dad didn’t ask questions, just hugged him and whispered encouraging things like “it’s okay,” and “you’re going to be fine, Stiles,” in his ear while rubbing his back. 

And he doesn’t even know why he was crying. This was his entire fault. He had pushed her away but she stayed right by his side. He had been the one to walk away. He had been the one who left her crying in her car after making her drop him off. He was the one who had been such an unappreciative dick. He sucked at being her best friend and her boyfriend. Stiles didn’t deserve Malia, he never did.


End file.
